A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan
Epilogue
A few weeks later
ONCE UPON A TIME….
Ever since I was a little girl, I was raised around fairytales.
Everyone spoke about the legends of a prince, and often, one might find themselves believing to be a princess.
I was called a mafia princess, but my scars and blindness always made me an outcast.
My entire life, people considered me weak, but they never noticed the fire lurking in my eyes. They never tried to be consumed by the flames…. until he entered my life.
I’d met a man when I’d least expected to.
And I surprised him.
A bride was always sacred whether given or stolen.
And I became his bride.
No one could come after me now.
I belonged with him.
Miran and I had shifted permanently into our cabin in the woods. The woods were lovely and deep. It was quiet, serene, and isolated from the rest of the world. When it was just us two, it seemed like we were the only two people who existed.
The entire forest around us was filled with flowers, plants, and trees. At least that was what my nose sensed.
My husband shifted behind me on the porch swing he had built for me in the backyard.
Night had fallen.
And I loved the sounds of our breathing in the air.
Miran’s breath fell on the nape of my neck, making the hair stand. I was reading a book he bought me, and he was trying to understand Braille. I smiled cheekily. Even though he was terrible at it, I appreciated the gesture.
“Kiska, your hands are beautiful.”
He was always complimenting me and noticing new things about me to obsess over. No one ever looked at me the way he did.
His lips moved all over my neck before kissing my scars. They tingled underneath his warm lips.
I didn’t feel bad about them anymore. I knew my worth now, and a woman who knew her worth was the deadliest thing in the world.
His arms wrapped around me like I would disappear from his grasp, and he clung to me tightly.
Magic was real, and those who didn’t believe in it would never find it.
He was my twisted fairytale come true.
He was honest, brave, and protective like the men one found in a storybook.
We were so different from one another, yet so alike.
He’d seen the most damaged parts of my soul, and he didn’t run away. He’d shown me his instead.
To understand each other, we lurked in the same darkness that drowned us.
Our pain mirrored at each other now.
He walked into my life like he’d already belonged there, tore down my walls, and lit my soul on fire.
We were incomplete without each other.
Two pieces of the same soul.
He was the only one I would ever want.
He was my home.
Even when I looked on and into the future fifty years from now, we would still be in this cozy cabin together.
I wanted to be with him till the very last page of our story.
My darkness to his.
Most people were afraid of the unseen.
To them, it created instant fear, leading them to act out in chaotic movements. I wished I could tell them they were simply afraid of what hides beneath it. That they might just be afraid of themselves. Like I once was.
The darkness was my life, and I dwelled within it daily.
I hated it when I was a child—I had been so afraid. But now, it provided me with a sense of serenity. I liked the peace. The quiet. Staring into nothingness.
I wore the dark like some girls wore a little black dress.
Darkness was a part of our lives, but it didn’t always mean it was wrong. Sometimes it helped, embracing it like I had embraced mine.
Like Miran had embraced his.
I found so much beauty in the dark, that the light made me afraid. I wished I realized sooner, I shouldn’t hate the dark, the unknown.
“People used to say that I’m cursed,” I said softly, flipping a page. It didn’t bother me anymore.
Miran squeezed me even tighter.
“You are so beautiful to me,” my breath hitched, “maybe it was in your destiny to not be jealous of the woman staring back at you in the mirror,” he teased.
I grinned, and his soft lips pecked my cheek.
“You are not a beauty so cursed,” he murmured against my hair. “You’re just half goddess…. and half demon.”
Laughter left my throat, and I slammed my book shut. Reaching behind me, my arms wandering, fumbling in the dark, I managed to grab his neck and pulled his lips against mine.
I was a forest of the night, surrounded by dark trees and vines.
Trapped in darkness.
I met someone who didn’t try to bring me into the light.
He joined me instead.
The color black wasn’t always about despair.
It wasn’t always evil.
People often forget what else it represented.
It represented the night.
Mystery. Protection. Strength. Comfort.
An ending.
Darkness was beautiful.
He was beautiful, extraordinary, and mine.
His beauty to my beast.
I ran in the wild freely.
We didn’t live in the dark, it lived in us.
We were darkness.
